Electric Twist
by billiespiper
Summary: Quinn steps back into the shadows. She allows the dark to encompass her face, and finally loosens her grip on the drawstring of her hood. This is what she's been reduced to. She can only play in the night time. Because Quinn Fabray is beastly. /


**Note: For the sake of this story, Quinn is still on the cheerios despite it being around "Prom Queen". This fic is **_**very**_** loosely based off of the movie Beastly, and subsequently the film Beauty and the Beast. Enjoy!**

/

It's dark out. Winter's coming, and the days are becoming shorter. For most, this is a dismaying idea. The dark blankets everything and the days of crisp beautiful fall is most definitely over. For Quinn Fabray, however, this is a blessing. The night means shadows that fall over her face and hide her. Dark is the ability to walk around town without the risk of the slip of her hood or an inquisitive child studying her face.

Presently, she presses a cheek against the cool glass of her window. It's a welcome feeling, a break from the stuffy heat of the attic. Quinn watches a disarray of cars zip past her house, afraid of the stories they have heard. Stories about a beautiful girl turned into a horrible monster overnight. Stories about how it's catching, and how to be near that girl would be a death sentence.

Quinn stands, and brushes a mess of cobwebs away from her face. When her hand brushes her cheek, she can feel the tender gash wedged into her skin. After almost five months, it still makes her shudder involuntarily.

She sits on the navy striped bed her mother so kindly placed for her convenience. Her fingers knot and twist in the sheets almost as a reflex, gripping hard to avoid the influx of tears threatening their way up.

So ugly even her parents don't want her. So ugly that she's not allowed out of the house, in fear that she'll scare the children.

She still wears her Cheerio's uniform, a reminiscence of the days when she was on top. However, the blonde ponytail that used to hang so tight at the back of her head is gone, scalp smooth and hairless. Quinn sighs, wistful in a way.

She used to be perfection. Now, she's _beastly_-

"-it's just _terrifying_. She's Lauren Zizes, for god's sake. Who's going to vote her as prom queen?" Quinn's voice holds an agitated edge to it, nerves beginning to take over.

"I dunno babe. Puck, maybe. Her wrestling team?"

Quinn's head swivels until she's eye to eye with her boyfriend.

"Finn, you _idiot_. It was a _rhetorical_ question. That means you aren't supposed to answer it. Why are you so calm about this?"

Finn's head falls back against the armrest of her couch, making an uncertain type of noise before answering.

"Prom's just not that important to me, I guess. It seems kind of stupid, to be so obsessed for months over a plastic crown."

Quinn sighs, breathing shallow as she tries to prevent herself from screaming at him. She's been working on controlling her emotions lately. After all, pregnancy hormones were the peak of her anger, and she's not sure if she wants to go into that state again.

"It's more than a crown. Hell, I don't even care about the crown. It's about getting _respect_ back. People still think I'm a whore after the whole pregnancy incident, and if I loose prom queen to Lauren Zizes or Santana, then I'll never be anything at this school again."

Finn's face tightens visibly at the mention of her pregnancy, and the blatant way she talks about it.

"I respect you. Glee Club respects you. Why do you need more than that?"

Quinn falls against the couch, shutting her eyes for a moment. She knows that no way she explains it, will he be able to understand it. It's a _girl_ thing. Sometimes, Quinn Fabray really hates boys.

/

Finn leaves a half an hour later, when he realizes that her repeated moaning and sighing about homework was a signal for him to leave already. He exits her house with a distracted peck to the cheek, but Quinn doesn't even lead him to the door, choosing instead to draw her phone from her pocket.

quinn f (5:29): _i know this is kind of random, but do you want to meet me somewhere? santana's busy with brittany and i don't feel like dealing with finn tonight._

The response is instantaneous, which frightens her for a moment, before she relaxes into a quirked smile.

rachel* (5:30): _Is this Quinn? I don't think you ever gave me your number. Did you mean to text me? _

Quinn curses under her breath. She remembers now, getting Rachel's number from Tina, with a poorly drawn excuse about chemistry homework. Tina had simply smirked, almost knowingly in a way, and scribbled the number on a notepad for Quinn. When she was loading the number into her contacts later in the day, she had stared deliberately at her phone for a minute before adding an asterisk next to her name. It seemed appropriate, as it was the closest thing her phone had to a star, and Rachel Berry was the closest thing she had to a star.

quinn f (5:32): _yes, rachel. i meant to text you. i know we don't hang out much, and it kind of seems like i'm always out to get you, but._

quinn f (5:33): _but you're not actually that bad. you're kind of cool. you always give me advice, and you're always nice to me, even when i torture you. _

rachel* (5:34): _I'd be happy to hang out with you, Quinn. _

Quinn sucks in a short breath, a warm, satisfied smile spreading across her lips.

quinn f (5:36): _chipotles in fifteen? don't be late. _

rachel* (5:37): _I'll take this moment to remind you that I'm against the exploitation of animals for our personal gain. _

quinn f (5:39): _i'm sure they have some super special tortilla wrap for you, weirdo._

Quinn hesitates, then tacks on a smiley face to lessen the blow of her words. She wants it to seem affectionate, friendly- not like she's poking fun at the girl. In fact, she thinks it's kind of adorable the way Rachel has to bring neat brown bag lunches because she simply refuses to eat the produce filled cafeteria food.

rachel* (5:40): _...Fine. But you're paying. _

Slipping her phone back into her pocket, Quinn rises from the couch and slips a finger into her keyring. She had expected to pay- it was only common courtesy, right? If there was one thing Judy Fabray taught her daughter, it was that the asker always paid for the date. Even if it wasn't _really_ a date and she was pretty sure Rachel was completely heterosexual (although puppy eyed glances and quivering lips were soon to prove her wrong).

/

Quinn is perched on the glossy hardwood chair at the local Chipotle in Lima. Rachel has yet to arrive, so she passes the time by doodling her initials on a small triangle of the table in ballpoint pen (with an occasional B slipping in after the QF). Her stomach gurgles angrily, but she doesn't make a move to pick up the stuffed flour tortilla. Across the table sits a tofu and vegetable wrap that Quinn has simply _insisted_ the workers make.

There's a small trill overhead as the door swings open. Rachel, bundled up in a pink pea coat and a white knitted scarf steps lithely into the restaurant. She searches for Quinn instantaneously, warm brown eyes darting with fervor. It's clear to Quinn that Rachel believes she is being set up- that after everything, after nose jobs and original songs and her house party, Rachel thinks Quinn is vindictive.

Rachel spots her a few seconds later, hand raised in a tiny little wave. Quinn beckons her, smiling when she quickens her pace.

"Hi, Quinn." Rachel relaxes into her chair, easing her coat off her shoulders. She takes a look down at the food in front of her and arches an eyebrow at her dinner mate. "Tofu? And broccoli?"

Quinn bites her lip, anticipating Rachel's reaction. Nearly three years of glee club as taught her that Rachel is _very_ particular. Especially concerning her dietary schedule.

"Thank you. It's very considerate of you to… to care." Rachel clears her throat quietly, adjusting her weight on the seat. "Not many people take it seriously, veganism and all. I just think it's stupid, to have animals work for us."

"Of course I care." Rachel eyes her oddly for a moment, and Quinn jumps to cover up her (mis)phrasing. "I mean, I agree. Animals are… yeah, they're really important to me."

Rachel laughs after a moment, bringing her arm up to rest her elbow on the table.

"Is that why you have a beef burrito?"

Quinn's face flushes immediately, warmth spreading to the tips of her ears. She begins to sputter over an explanation, but Rachel stops her.

"It's fine, Q. Quinn. I'm joking."

And although her heart stutters a little at the nickname, her body relaxes, a tiny ghost of a smile at her lips.

/

The food is long gone, wrappers littering the plates, but Rachel's voice still echoes across the restaurant and Quinn's timid, kitten like laugh has grown to a screech of sorts, shrill and amused.

"I'm really glad you invited me to dinner. For the record." A small sigh escapes Quinn, her eyelids suddenly heavy as her gaze falls to the plate in front of her.

"Sometimes, Finn is just too much for me to deal with. He doesn't really understand me, I don't think. He doesn't understand my religion, or my personality or my actions even. I used to think he did, but I don't know." Rachel pauses in running a finger along the rim of her plate. "When we first started dating, it was just because it was expected. The head cheerleader and the quarter back, you know? I was just a pretty face. And then I got… _pregnant_ and he started to become someone who cared. But it wasn't until I joined glee club and met… everyone that I knew what it felt like to be loved."

The smile that drifts on Rachel's lips is beautiful, but there's still some confusion lingering within.

"And I _don't _know why I'm telling you all this." Quinn laughs, loudly. "I'm sorry. Really, it's just lately, I don't know who to talk to."

Rachel's pinky inches towards Quinn's elbow, aching to show some kind of physical comfort towards the girl.

But this is _Lima_. Conservative, homophobic, Lima. The town that would never accept a teenage girl as gay. This is why Rachel knows Quinn will stay with Finn. Why she will stay semi-content and carting children off to soccer games in a mini van. Because if you're not 100% ready to announce yourself as different, as a _freak_, then you won't ever be ready in Lima.

"You can always talk to me. If you ever need someone, Quinn, please know that I'm here for you. Everyone in glee club is here for you."

When Quinn looks up, their eyes lock. It rips a chill through her spine, the warmth encompassing Rachel.

She smiles.

/

**(this is multichapter, just so you know!**


End file.
